Charade
by PrairieLily
Summary: The team has had a hell of a day without Abby and Ducky there to lend their expertise. McAbby portrayed but this isn't a shipper story, it's ensemble. Three chapters, daily updates. 3 of 3 up. COMPLETE.
1. Really Bad Day

Charade

Disclaimer:Not my characters, no infringement intended

Rating: T for mild language

Pairings: Oh, McAbby of course! But it's not a shipper story. They're portrayed but it's not a shipper story.

Summary: The team has had a hell of a day without Abby and Ducky there to lend their expertise.

* * *

Chapter 1 - Really Bad Day

"I'm never doing this again," Timothy McGee stated flatly. He stood in autopsy, slumped against the wall, his hands buried deep inside the pockets of his white lab coat. "The next time Abby wants me to go with her to help her take care of wedding stuff, I'll be leading the way to the door."

The dishevelled group stood around haphazardly, surveying the damaged morgue. Instruments were spilled on the floor, there was blood spatter on one of the tables, a small bullet-ding in one of the doors leading to a cooler, a hole in the wall where a blood-stained slug had been dug out for the purpose of ballistics testing, two chairs were overturned, and scuff marks here and there marred the floor. In short, the place looked like a bull had come through, chased by lions.

"Well, at least you didn't get… oh, yeah, that's right… you _did_ get shot at. Actually, that guy hit us both with the same bullet," Tony DiNozzo said wryly, eyeing up the deep crimson patch, seeping through the white bandage on the right arm of their Junior Agent. Suddenly, he winced and whined a bit. "OW, Palmer, careful with that. It's a serious deep flesh wound."

Jimmy Palmer looked at him levelly, raising an eyebrow behind his round lenses. "Tony, it's a _nick_. You don't see Tim whimpering like a little boy, and he's got the same GSW that you do." Jimmy sounded almost uncharacteristically brave, somehow. Perhaps it was leftover adrenalin, from the day's happenings, still lingering in his system.

Gibbs snorted slightly. "Actually, I think McGee's is a bit deeper." McGee suppressed a snicker, deciding it wasn't worth the retaliation that he knew Tony would exact later on.

Tony was about to respond something about "little Autopsy Gremlin," but was cut off as Jimmy applied a compress, pressing down on it perhaps a little firmer than was strictly necessary, and proceeded to wrap it with gauze to hold it in place. "There. That ought to hold it until you get to the ER."

"Aw, do we have to? You seem to have done a pretty good job of stitching and bandaging us up…" Tony pleaded. McGee sighed heavily, giving a pleading glance towards their makeshift doctor. "I'm pretty sure we'll be fine, Jimmy. Really. They're just little scratches." He initiated his classic McGee Pout, Tony taking cue and doing the same.

"Awww, what's wrong, my Little Hairy Butt?" Ziva said, not sounding the least bit sarcastic, but rather, quite sympathetic. "Flesh wounds can be extremely painful," she pointed out, in their defence. Tony gave her a pouty look of gratitude, as Jimmy rolled his eyes and shook his head. "I don't know who, but somebody owes me _big time_," he muttered to himself. Ziva smiled towards him warmly.

"I hope I can get this place cleaned up before Dr. Mallard gets back from his conference." Jimmy sounded like a teenager who was terrified his parents would return home before he had a chance to clean up after that big kegger he'd just thrown. "When does his flight come in again?" Gibbs looked at his watch. "Should be around 2300. Someone should be there to pick him up, by the way."

"We're wounded," McGee pointed out. Tony nodded, initiating the Pout again. "I think there's some slight muscular damage here. Probably not a good idea to drive, and I don't recommend we send Ziva, either," the older agent said. When Gibbs wasn't looking, McGee and Tony exchanged a small, subtle thumbs-up.

Ziva ignored the dig at her questionable driving skills, and instead went over towards Palmer, surveying the damage in the morgue with a practiced eye. "I think it's do-able," she said, with a thoughtful tone and a nodding of her head. She gazed at Jimmy, slipping her hand under and around his arm reassuringly. "Don't worry Jimmy, we won't leave you to it by yourself. _Will we_?" she said, with pointed looks towards her fellow agents. "It isn't your fault that Tony and McGee decided that they needed to be heroes in the morgue."

"Ziva, it was a _hostage taking_," McGee pointed out, "What the hell were we supposed to do? Tony and Jimmy were being held at gunpoint in here." Tony nodded, "Yeah, Probie's right. We did the best we could to make sure Jimmy and I got out of here alive. I think we did a damned good job, too." He smiled warmly at McGee, who grinned back in agreement. The younger man's face then took on a more serious expression, as if reminded of another brush with disaster, narrowly avoided.

"All I can say is, thank God I didn't break Abby's mass spectrometer. I told you, I've only got a basic working knowledge of it." McGee sounded relieved, and terrified at the same time. He knew his ass wouldn't be worth a plug nickel if he broke so much as a microscope slide in Abby's lab, not to mention the fact that he knew he'd be spending the first six months of their marriage sleeping by himself, on the couch – provided she didn't call the wedding off entirely.

Gibbs snorted and shrugged. "You had enough of a working knowledge of it to get the results we needed, McGee. You're better than you think you are. Don't ever forget that. And you do make a pretty convincing lab rat, Elf Lord." McGee fired a quick sarcastic smile in their leader's direction.

"Well, I think Jimmy makes a pretty convincing Medical Examiner. Don't you, _Doctor_ Palmer?" Tony grinned proudly and appreciatively in Jimmy's direction, eliciting a deep crimson blush and a bashful shrugging of his shoulders from Ducky's young assistant. "Close enough," Jimmy said. "I've learned a lot from Dr. Mallard. Fortunately I didn't need to do anything too complex. Of course, I could have faked it, too. That guy wouldn't have known the difference."

"True," Gibbs said, watching Ziva as she propped herself up to sit on one of the stainless steel tables. "Ooh, cold," she muttered to herself breathlessly, as she planted herself on the cold metal. "Fortunately, you didn't have to fake it," Gibbs sighed. "The best way to avoid being caught in a lie is to not lie."

"I thought the rule was, "Be specific when you lie," Ziva asked, perched on the table, and sounding slightly confused.

"That too," Gibbs said, with a small grin. Tony heaved a heavy sigh of relief, glad that Palmer's first-aid was finished. "Rule number 7."

"Good thing he didn't know rule number 6," McGee said, with his eyebrows raised, thoughtfully. Ziva gave him a questioning look, until Gibbs elaborated, "Never believe what you're told. Always double check." He smiled at her.

Ziva nodded, understanding. "Ah, I see now. But you didn't have to lie. So you wouldn't have been nailed if he did know rule 6."

"I think you mean "screwed," Ziva," Tony said. Ziva jumped down from the steel table and walked over to him, studying his newly bandaged arm. "Well, screwed, too. But you were definitely nailed." She smiled sweetly.

"She's got a point, Tony," McGee pointed out, shrugging. He turned his head suddenly, thinking that he'd just detected the alluring scent of something – or someone – very familiar. Oh no… not Abby? But then, he heard another voice – definitely not Abby.

"Jethro, what in God's name have you done to my morgue?"


	2. Busted

Chapter 2 - Busted

Gibbs winced slightly, then turned around slowly. "Ducky," he said. "We had an incident. Don't worry, it's all worked out." Ducky frowned, then turned an accusing glare on his hapless assistant. Jimmy flinched slightly, then said, "It wasn't me Dr. Mallard, I swear it."

"Timmy, what did you do to Ducky's morgue?" McGee closed his eyes. He was right, his nose hadn't lied to him – Abby _had_ just arrived.

"Abs, honey… what are you doing here? I thought you were wrapping up wedding stuff… and wait, I thought Ducky's flight didn't get in until later?" McGee tried to change the subject, but didn't get far, when Abby's eyes grew wide as she noticed the wound on his arm. "Oh, no… Timmy what happened?" McGee had to stop himself from smiling, and returning a face at Tony, who was rolling his eyes at the display.

"Just a small… hostage taking," he explained, hastily, muttering the last two words as unintelligibly as he could manage. "Like Gibbs said, it's all worked out." Abby narrowed her bright green eyes at her betrothed. "Hostage taking? Tony, what did you do to my fiancé?"

"Nothing, Abs, I swear it," Tony tried to say. He moved quickly over to where Abby was standing, trying to reassure her. "You should've seen McGee. Those high-school wrestling moves really came in handy, I was so damned _proud_ of him… And Ziva… man, that's our girl, she's so quick on the draw, she's our little Crack Shot…"

"Quit trying to gloss this over, Anthony. I still haven't been told what the hell happened to my morgue." Ducky sounded extremely unhappy at the state of things.

"Pretty much what Tim said, Doctor," Jimmy whispered nervously. "We had a small incident with a man who came in demanding to know what had happened to his brother. Turned out he was armed… and, well, as you can see, things got a bit out of hand…"

"A _bit_, Jimmy?" Abby was clearly unhappy. McGee tried to soothe her with some quiet words of reassurance. "Well, Abby… we managed to fake him out. I had to run some basic tests with your mass spectr…" was all he managed to get out, when Abby glared at him, cutting his words off at the pass. "What did you do to my baby, McGee?"

"Nothing, Abby. Honest. He just ran some basic tests. Just enough to get some authentic results to fake the guy out, that's it. I saw the lab myself. It's all good," Gibbs tried to reassure her. He draped a paternal arm around her shoulders. "Gibbs, how the hell would you know if any of my equipment was broken? You can't even reboot your own computer when it crashes."

"Well, it was humming and beeping and purring. It looked exactly like it does when you're using it," he said with authority, and sounding like he had no intention of carrying the conversation on any further.

"Anyway, this guy came in demanding to know how his brother died. Fortunately, Jims here was able to fake him out too," Tony stated, sounding quite proud of how they'd handled the crisis without their resident experts on hand to help.

"Tony, I did _not_ fake him out," Jimmy said, raising a finger and waving it defensively in the air. "My actions _and_ my findings were absolutely authentic. Ask Dr. Mallard after he reviews my report." Jimmy couldn't help the "so there" tone in his voice. He all but stuck his tongue out at Gibbs' senior agent.

Ducky sighed, and sagged against a table. "Well, Mr. Palmer, I trust you will not be leaving this evening, until autopsy is in a fit state to carry on with business as usual, in the morning?" Jimmy smiled at him sheepishly. "Of course not, Doctor. It'll be ship-shape before I leave." He sighed, and got to work tidying up, Ziva taking pity on him and joining him in the clean-up effort.

"So, how did the shopping go this afternoon, Abby? The last time we found that amazing little black cocktail dress for my bridesmaid outfit, did you find something for yourself this time?" Ziva asked, as she helped to pick up items off the floor, and sanitize areas that had been contaminated in one way or another, from the day's events.

"Oh, yeah, Ziva. I think I finally found my dress!" McGee smiled at this. "See, I wouldn't have been able to go with you anyway," he said. Like Jimmy before him, he couldn't quite stop the "so there" tone in his voice, either.

"What? That would've been a problem?" Gibbs asked, perplexed. Abby and McGee looked at him, rolling their eyes in unison. "Gibbs, don't you know that it's bad luck for the groom to see the bride's dress before the wedding?"

Gibbs smiled slightly and shrugged at this. "Oh. So _that's_ what happened then. And here all this time I thought it was just because I'm a bastard."

"Well, be that as it may, Jethro, you still haven't explained what happened to my morgue." Ducky still wasn't happy with the elusive explanations he was receiving. "And by the way, I managed to catch an earlier flight, and Abigail happened to have her cellular telephone on when I called her. She came and picked me up. So do not bother asking again why I'm back so soon."

"It's just like we've told you, Duck. We had an incident that just happened to transpire here in autopsy. We handled it, everyone's fine, your morgue will be fine in the morning, and wow, it's getting late, don't you agree? I think I need to go home and pop some pain killers, then call it a night…" Ducky glared at Tony. "You're glossing it over, Anthony."

"Am not."

"Am so. And do not attempt to play little children's' games with me, Anthony DiNozzo."

"Well, if the shoe fits," McGee muttered, causing Abby to giggle slightly. "Come on Timmy. Let's get you home. You look like you've had a long day, my poor Baby needs some TLC." McGee resisted the impulse to milk Abby's sudden nurturing attitude for all it was worth. He didn't want to push his luck – after all, he still wasn't sure that he'd left her lab in satisfactory shape, according to her standards, at least.

As Abby and McGee headed towards the door, Tony recognized his chance to get out while the getting was good. "Hey, wait up," he said suddenly, dashing over to catch up, as quickly as his throbbing arm would allow. "Can I catch a ride home with you guys?"

McGee glanced at him gratefully, mouthing the words, "Thank you," just as Abby said, "Sure, but we're stopping by my lab first. I have to check on my babies." Tony nodded in understanding towards his younger colleague, and reached out with his good arm, resting his hand on McGee's shoulder. "I'll always have your back, Probie," he whispered, winking.

Ziva and Gibbs watched the trio leave, then turned back to the task at hand. Gibbs had started helping with the clean-up as well, much to Ducky's satisfaction.

"So, Jethro, please. Tell me what exactly you mean by a hostage taking? What exactly transpired here today?"


	3. Fessing Up

Chapter 3 – Fessing Up

Gibbs cleared his throat. "Well, we had an armed man storm into the morgue. Jimmy was here by himself, about to put a body in the cooler to await your return."

Ziva smiled at Jimmy, as they finished picking instruments up off the floor. "That ought to do it," she said, brushing her hands together. The two walked over to where the older men were talking.

"He assumed I was the medical examiner," Jimmy said, as he and Ziva approached. "He pulled a weapon on me and demanded an autopsy. I tried to tell him it doesn't work that way, but I guess you're never wrong when you're holding a loaded pistol." Jimmy shrugged.

"I see. So, where does Timothy fit into this?" Ducky was finally sounding satisfied to be getting the whole story.

"He came in with Tony," Ziva said. "Tony was taken hostage, with Jimmy. Tim made a split-second decision to take a gamble and act as a forensics expert. He was only trying to buy time, to allow us to figure out what to do. Fortunately, it worked. The gun-wielding crazy man allowed him to leave, to run tests in the lab."

"So, what were your discoveries then, Mr. Palmer?" Ducky had picked up Jimmy's report, and was perusing it casually. Jimmy sighed, crossing his arms and leaning back heavily against a steel table. He hadn't realized until now how tired he was from the day's excitement. "It took some stalling, but I did happen to notice petechial hemmoraging in the man's eyes, and something odd on his neck, hidden behind his ear. It was almost like an injection site. I took a sample of blood and Tim took it back to the lab. Then I checked inside his mouth. His tongue was twice the normal size, and his throat was swollen shut."

"Hmm. Anaphylactic shock of some kind, then, Jimmy?" The young assistant nodded. "That's what it turned out to be. I extracted a stinger from the injection site, and Tim came back with a positive tox screen result for bee venom, and his histamine levels were through the roof, as well."

"One would think the crazy man would be satisfied with that, but noooo…" Ziva said, bitterly. She shook her head in that way she had, swaying it slightly with frustration. "That's when all hell really broke loose."

Gibbs made a face, remembering all too well the adverse reaction their hostage-taker had had to their findings. "He wasn't happy with the results. He thought we were covering up some greater crime. Of course, we weren't. Jimmy and McGee found the death to be accidental. Of course, the official ruling is pending your review and signing off on it, Duck," Gibbs said. Ducky nodded. "I'll take a closer look at this tonight, Jethro. But it looks to me like Mr. Palmer here did a pretty thorough job of it. Nice work, Jimmy my boy." Jimmy smiled broadly, blushing slightly at the praise.

"So, Tony tried to disarm him. Not the smartest thing he's ever tried… Tim somehow got in the line of fire, the gun went off… and we had two superficial gunshot wounds for the price of one slug," Jimmy said, trying to sway the subject back to the story at hand. Ziva nodded thoughtfully. "I managed to wrestle the gun away from him when Tim took him down in what he described as a basic high-school wrestling move, but not before he got a shot off that hit that cooler door over there," she said, pointing towards the dinged up door, "then he got away from Tim for a moment… still, he set him off balance long enough to give me time enough to raise my own weapon and fire it. Non-fatal, of course. Then Tony moved in from where he was, and immobilized him for good. I think he and Tim did very well, considering that they were both wounded at that point."

"Once we had him out of here, we all had a chance to survey the damage, and Jimmy had a chance to look at our walking wounded," Gibbs concluded. Ducky nodded, understanding now why his assistant looked as if he were about to fall asleep standing up. "I see. Well, I think the morgue looks fine enough for tonight. Jimmy, you look exhausted. Go home, get some rest. I'll see you in the morning, my boy." Jimmy nodded gratefully, smiling slightly at Ziva as she took his arm to lead him towards the door. "I'll drive, Jimmy."

"Ziva, he doesn't want to come back here tonight… as a corpse. Let him drive himself," Gibbs said, with a sparkle and a smirk. Ziva made a face at him, and simply said, "See you in the morning, Gibbs. Ducky, have a wonderful night full of the sweetest of dreams." Ducky smiled charmingly at her. "May I wish the same for you then, my dear girl."

"Goodnight, Dr. Mallard. See you tomorrow," Jimmy said, raising a tired hand in a half-hearted farewell gesture.

Ducky waved at the pair as they departed, then turned to Gibbs.

"So then Jethro, that's really all there is to tell?" Ducky asked, concern in his distinguished English brogue. Gibbs paused a moment, draping an arm around the older man's shoulders, to lead him towards the door. "Not quite, Duck. You would have been damned proud of Jimmy today. You would have been proud of _all_ of our people. They're the best, Ducky. And they're all ours."

Ducky smiled, nodding. "That they are, Jethro. That they are," he said, as he reached out towards the switch, turning out the light, and leaving the morgue to be bathed in darkness, until morning.


End file.
